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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402937">Heaven's Just A Place (If Not For You)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletopaz/pseuds/elletopaz'>elletopaz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - The Good Place (TV) Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Canon Compliant, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, It Makes Sense When You Read It, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Technically Speaking, again for like one chapter, again technically, also you totally don't need to know anything about the good place to understand this, anything you might need to know from the show gets explained at some point during the story, because OF COURSE THERE IS, but only in like one chapter so you can totally skip it, but somehow also far stupider, i swear this all makes sense when you read it, idk how to explain this concept really, is an AU where heaven and hell are both far more clever than in canon, kind of, really what this is, there's only one bed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:27:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24402937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletopaz/pseuds/elletopaz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthony J. Crowley was a good person. One of the best, even. That's how he ended up in the Good Place, according to Gabriel. In theory, he has nothing but eternal paradise to look forward to. They've even introduced him to his soulmate, and despite the fact that he dresses like it's the 1800s and will ramble on about pretty much any topic presented to him, Crowley is finding he can't help but fall head over heels for him. There's only one problem: Crowley's not who everyone seems to think he is. He doesn't belong in the Good Place.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Everything Is Fine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>inspired by <a href="https://wheeloffortune-design.tumblr.com/">wheeloffortune-design's</a> amazing <a href="https://wheeloffortune-design.tumblr.com/post/189341053860/this-is-aziraphale-your-soulmate-oh-hello">good omens/the good place art!</a></p><p>title from the happy fits' song "right through"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Welcome! Everything is fine.  </em>
</p>
<p>Crowley opened his eyes. Blinking a couple times, he glanced around, trying to get a sense of where he was. The room was nondescript-- the walls, the floor, and the couch he was sitting on were all various shades of beige-- and the most interesting thing in it was the potted plant that sat next to a set of wooden doors. Crowley could see it had been severely overwatered. He rolled his eyes. </p>
<p>“So, clearly not <em> everything </em> is fine, eh?” he inquired of the wall upon which the message was emblazoned. </p>
<p>The wall had nothing to say to that. </p>
<p>After several long minutes, Crowley was very seriously considering laying down on the couch and taking a nap. He knew he probably should have been worried; he had absolutely no idea where he was, nor how he had gotten there, nor even what he had been doing before he had got here-- but perhaps it was the fact that he was <em> so </em> completely clueless that worrying didn’t seem to have much point. However, just as he was about to get comfortable, one of the doors opened. </p>
<p>“Anthony Crowley?” a man stuck his head out. “I’m Gabriel. Come on in!”</p>
<p>The man--Gabriel-- smiled, and Crowley felt sick. He couldn’t say why, he had never met this Gabriel before in his life, but he could feel it. Something was wrong. Despite this, he couldn’t come up with a valid reason not to do as Gabriel had said, so he followed him into the room and sat down in the chair that Gabriel gestured at. Gabriel sat down across from him, behind a large wooden desk.</p>
<p>“So,” Gabriel said, leaning forward and resting his interlocked hands on the desk, “you, Anthony J. Crowley, are dead. Welcome to the afterlife!”</p>
<p>“...alright. Cool. Dare I ask-- is this...well?” Crowley glanced upward. “Or... uh...” He pointed down. He knew he should probably feel upset, distressed, worried-- <em> something </em>, but aside from being a bit unnerved by Gabriel, he felt strangely calm.</p>
<p>“Well, the human afterlife doesn’t quite work that way, Anthony-- can I call you Anthony?” Gabriel didn’t wait for an answer. “So, Anthony-- Heaven and Hell-- they’re reserved, I suppose would be the term, for-- celestial and occult beings. Sort of like headquarters, if you will. When humans die, all of their actions on earth are judged by both Heaven and Hell, and based on that judgement, they end up in either the Good Place or the Bad Place. But you don’t have to worry about all that, Anthony-- because you’re in the Good Place.”</p>
<p>“Well that’s... unlikely,” Crowley said under his breath. If Gabriel heard, he gave no indication. “So-- wait, why don’t I remember dying? How did I die?”</p>
<p>“Car accident,” Gabriel said bluntly. “If a death is particularly traumatizing or embarrassing we erase your memory of it, to make the transition easier. We can restore it if you want, although--”</p>
<p>“No, nope-- I’m definitely alright. So, uh… what happens now?”</p>
<p>“Come with me-- I’ll show you around the neighborhood!” Gabriel smiled <em> again </em>, and Crowley had to stop himself from physically recoiling. </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lotta frozen yogurt shops around here,” Crowley remarked with a raised eyebrow. “Are all the Good Place neighborhoods like this?”</p>
<p>“Oh no, of course not! Each Good Place neighborhood is perfectly catered to the residents that live in it.” Gabriel explained as they walked through the neighborhood. “Anything you could possibly want-- you’ll find it here. Oh, and all the residents in each neighborhood are selected to be compatible with each other-- you might not be best friends with <em> everyone </em>, but we guarantee you’ll find a lot of people you’ll get along with. Welcome to eternal paradise!”</p>
<p>“And I suppose I’ll find my soulmate as well?” Crowley asked. He didn’t mean for it to come off as cynical as it did, but he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. </p>
<p>“Oh, of course not,” Gabriel stopped walking and turned to face Crowley. “We’ve already found them for you!”</p>
<p>“You... what?”</p>
<p>“Yes! Soulmates are real-- finding them is part of the judging system, after we’ve determined that you’re going to the Good Place, of course. Basically, we find people whose souls are compatible, and introduce them in the afterlife. You can meet him now, if you’d like.”</p>
<p>“I’m... can I have a second? To, er, to process... all of this?” Crowley’s head was spinning. Something still felt <em> wrong </em>, but for whatever reason the idea of meeting his soulmate made his heart skip a beat. Despite the fact that it was logically the least plausible thing he had been told so far, something about it felt real. It felt right. </p>
<p>“Of course! I have a few more residents to greet today, so for now I can show you to your house, and I’ll bring your soulmate in, say, an hour?” Gabriel was already walking away from him.</p>
<p>“No, yeah-- uh, yeah sure,” Crowley hurried after him. </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Welcome home!” Gabriel escorted Crowley to the door of an sleek, modern-looking house. He opened the door, allowing Crowley to step inside. </p>
<p>It was almost uncanny how much the house reminded Crowley of his London flat. It was cold, stylish, and not a single piece of the furniture looked comfortable. The biggest difference that Crowley could pinpoint was that this house lacked any semblance of the personal touches Crowley had attempted to include to make the flat feel slightly more like a home. He had never felt <em> truly </em> at home there, but it had certainly been better than this. This place felt… soulless. </p>
<p>“How do you like it?” Gabriel was grinning proudly. “Just like everything else in the neighborhood, each house’s design is perfectly catered to the resident!”</p>
<p>“Ah.” Crowley tried to sound as noncommittal as possible. “Yeah, yeah… it’s nice.”</p>
<p>If Gabriel had caught any of his discontent, he showed no sign of it. He clapped his hands together, making Crowley jump. “Wonderful! Now, I really have to run, but I want to show you something first.”</p>
<p>Gabriel walked past Crowley and over to the desk.</p>
<p>“Now, obviously you know that you’re here because of your incredibly notable achievements. Only the very best humans-- the ones who truly contribute to the betterment of humanity-- end up in the Good Place. But people like you, Anthony Crowley-- you’re the best of the best.”</p>
<p>Crowley was starting to feel nauseous again. Something was very, very wrong about this. Sure, he wouldn’t exactly consider himself a <em> bad </em> person, per say, but the best of the best? He was pretty certain his life had been average at best-- he certainly hadn’t been a <em> bad </em> person… and yet, nothing about what he could remember seemed to fit Gabriel’s words. Did the afterlife ever make mistakes? <em> Could </em> the afterlife make mistakes? If it was Heaven and Hell calling the shots, that meant celestial and occult beings were making these decisions. Was it possible for them to do the wrong thing? </p>
<p>“Anyway, the point is,” Gabriel pressed a button on the corner of the desk, “you can use this to review all your memories! All your favorite moments from your life, the things you’re most proud of-- anything you want-- you can relive it all any time you like!”</p>
<p>A hologram of a menu appeared in mid-air, hovering over the desk. Gabriel clicked a few of the options in rapid succession, and suddenly the hologram was playing a video. It appeared to be a first-person perspective of someone holding a sleeping child, gently rocking them in their arms.</p>
<p>Gabriel watched the video fondly for a couple of seconds, before turning back to Crowley. “Absolutely adorable,” he said, grinning. “You really cared for Warlock-- just like all the other children you helped. That’s what made your life <em> truly </em> exceptional.”</p>
<p>Crowley nodded, smiling weakly. </p>
<p>“Anyway, I really have to be going.” Gabriel shut down the hologram and walked briskly to the door.  “But I’ll be bringing your soulmate over soon, so I’ll see you then!”</p>
<p>As the door shut behind Gabriel, Crowley collapsed onto the couch, which felt like it was made of concrete. There were so many thoughts in his head, he didn’t even know how to begin to unpack them all. At least he had one thing clarified for him. That memory Gabriel has shown him-- it wasn’t his. He had never known a Warlock-- and he certainly hadn’t dedicated his life to helping children in need. He had been a gardener, working on the Dowling Estate in London. That was the only job he had held his entire life. </p>
<p>He <em> wasn’t </em> who Gabriel thought he was. Somehow, the Good Place had made a mistake. </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley flopped onto the bed, which was more comfortable than the couch, but not by much. </p>
<p>There was no reason for him to be feeling this nervous. Well, actually, there were a lot of reasons for him to be feeling nervous-- but the impending arrival of his soulmate should’ve been the least of his worries. And yet, it was all he could think about. Clearly whoever Gabriel was bringing couldn’t actually be his soulmate, considering he wasn’t supposed to be here. That didn’t seem to matter to his heart, however, which gave an unhelpful flutter every time he thought about meeting this mystery man.</p>
<p>Crowley sat up, unable to bear being still any longer. He crossed the bedroom and walked into the bathroom, still lost in thought. Abruptly, he was pulled back to reality when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Staring at his face, he felt the same thing he had felt the first time he saw Gabriel smile. As much as his face looked entirely normal, and there was nothing he could directly point at and call <em> wrong </em> , something just wasn’t <em> right </em>. He leaned forward, blinking a couple times as he tried to pinpoint what was wrong.  </p>
<p>Why... why did he feel like his eyes were the wrong color? </p>
<p>Unfortunately he didn’t have time to ponder it further, as just then there was a knock on the door. Crowley realized he had entirely lost track of time, and Gabriel was already back. He left the bathroom, and spotted a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bedroom dresser. He grabbed them and shoved them onto his face, immediately feeling more comfortable. He hurried down the stairs, opening the door to reveal a smiling Gabriel and the man who should’ve been his soulmate. Crowley’s attempt at a cheerful greeting died on his lips when he saw him. Pale, soft looking curls framed a kind face, and a pair of piercing blue eyes were taking Crowley in as Crowley was doing the same. Crowley knew he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to stop. </p>
<p>There were no other words for it, the man was beautiful. Angelic, even-- in a stuffy, professor sort of way. Honest to god-- the man was wearing a <em> tartan bow tie </em>, of all things, and yet something about him was so striking and absolutely lovely that Crowley was entirely at a loss for words.</p>
<p>Gabriel coughed, and Crowley was brought back to his senses. “Anthony, this is Aziraphale. You two are soulmates!”</p>
<p>The man-- Aziraphale-- extended his hand. Crowley shook it-- oh, his hands were <em> soft </em>-- and had to consciously remind himself to let go.</p>
<p>“So lovely to finally meet you, dear boy!”</p>
<p>“Hey,” he said, attempting to sound cool and disaffected, as though he hadn’t spent the first thirty seconds of their meeting openly staring at him. “Er-- um, please, come inside.”</p>
<p>He stepped away from the door, allowing Aziraphale to enter the house. </p>
<p>At that Gabriel clapped his hands together, startling them both. “Right! I’ve got to go, lots of, uh, afterlife things to do-- but you two have fun! Oh, and remember, your next door neighbor is throwing a welcome party tonight-- be sure to stop by!”</p>
<p>And just like that, Gabriel was gone. Crowley let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. </p>
<p>“So... Gabriel’s pretty intense, eh?” Crowley said by way of breaking the tension. </p>
<p>“Hm? Oh, yes. Quite,” Aziraphale agreed. </p>
<p>“Like-- our souls have already <em> been </em> judged, right? That’s how we’re here and all-- so why does it feel like he’s <em> still </em> judging your every move?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale chuckled slightly at that. He smiled-- just for a moment-- lighting up his entire face, like the sun breaking through the clouds after rain. If Crowley hadn’t been convinced that Aziraphale was an angel before, he certainly was now. Crowley couldn’t shake the thought that he would do almost anything to make Aziraphale smile like that again.</p>
<p>There was a pause, and then they both began to speak at the same time.</p>
<p>“So, I was thinking--”</p>
<p>“And you know what’s so odd about this--”</p>
<p>They both laughed, and Crowley gestured to Aziraphale, “You first.” </p>
<p>“I was just thinking-- and forgive me if this is too forward, but I was wondering if it wouldn’t be too much trouble for me to stay at your house tonight? I have my own place, a little down the road, but the party tonight is likely to run late, and you do happen to live right next door--”</p>
<p>“Oh, no trouble at all,” Crowley cut him off. “Absolutely. You can stay at my place, if you’d like. Any time. We are soulmates, after all.”</p>
<p>It didn’t feel good, blatantly lying to Aziraphale. Less than five minutes he had known this man, yet it felt like he should be telling him all his deepest secrets. But he couldn’t-- at least not yet. For all he knew Aziraphale would tell Gabriel immediately, and Crowley would be sent to the Bad Place without a second thought. No, he'd have to make sure he could trust him first.</p>
<p>“Right, of-- of course,” Aziraphale fidgeted with his hands.</p>
<p>“Everything alright, angel?” The pet name slipped out without warning, like Crowley had been saying it for years. </p>
<p>“I’m quite alright, I assure you-- although, my dear, I rather think that might be blasphemy, considering that angels are actually real.” Aziraphale was blushing, and oh, that was <em> adorable </em>. </p>
<p>“Oh gosh, sorry-- uh, I didn’t mean--” Crowley didn’t think he’d be able to walk this one back without confessing to Aziraphale how attractive he found him. Thankfully, Aziraphale cut him off before he could stumble through another almost-sentence. </p>
<p>“For what it’s worth-- I, er, I don’t actually mind?” Aziraphale turned an even deeper shade of pink, and Crowley couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. </p>
<p>“Well, that’s alright, then.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so apparently i do not understand the concept of moderation or of easing yourself into things because after writing four one shots and one three chapter fic that was basically just three more one shots squished together, i have decided that the next logical step is to write an eleven chapter AU fic... so uh, here goes nothing</p>
<p>despite the whole storyline being planned out, this is still very much a WIP, so although my goal is to post a chapter a week, idk how consistent that schedule's actually going to be (plus once something is done i usually just want to get it out into the world ASAP so that means there's a chance of multiple chapters in a week and then a couple weeks off-- basically my writing/posting schedule is a mystery even to me so i'm sorry in advance lmao)</p>
<p>tumblr @ <a href="https://panicvertig-o.tumblr.com/">panicvertig-o</a> / <a href="https://ineffableflashbastard.tumblr.com/">ineffableflashbastard</a> (good omens side blog)</p>
<p>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletopaz/works?fandom_id=27251507">check out my other good omens fics!</a></p>
<p>thanks for reading! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A New Great Plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Representatives from both Heaven and Hell come together to discuss the issue of the two traitors who managed to stop armageddon, and how they might best exact revenge against them.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Angels and demons do not typically cooperate. Despite coming from the same original stock, most of  them believe it is simply not in their nature. Some 6000 years ago, one particular angel and one particular demon decided that those beliefs were, to put it simply, a bunch of nonsense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately for the rest of Heaven and Hell, this unconventional relationship eventually led to cooperation becoming not only necessary, but the only foreseeable option in order for them to exact some revenge. After all,  they were supposed to have a war, and thanks to the actions of one particular angel and one particular demon, said war had been tragically prevented. The legions of Heaven and Hell were not only angry-- they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>bored</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What else was there to do?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was for these reasons that representatives from both Heaven and Hell had agreed to meet in Limbo-- which at the moment looked an awful lot like the conference room of an entirely too upscale corporation-- to discuss the best way in which they might finally get vengeance against the angel Aziraphale and the demon Crowley.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, although they had come together for a common goal, neither side seemed to be willing to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasant</span>
  </em>
  <span> about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, we already know we can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. If this goes according to plan, it’ll keep a whole lot of angels and demons busy, and we can continue to torture them psychologically for the foreseeable future. I see no downsides to this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I can definitely name a few. But-- sure, okay-- letzzz say we do accept thizzzz... </span>
  <em>
    <span>insane</span>
  </em>
  <span> plan of yours,” Beelzebub folded her arms as she glared at Gabriel. “Why the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> would we make them </span>
  <em>
    <span>soulmatezzzzz</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Hastur scowled from across the room, “Way I see it, we’re just giving them a free pass to keep on...</span>
  <em>
    <span>fraternizing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He shuddered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, they’re doing far more than fraternizing,” Gabriel said, “Based on our observations, they appear to be... in love.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The assembled angels and demons all made various noises of disgust. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ever since the trials we’ve had Aziraphale and Crowley under close observation,” Michael said over the appalled noises. “Their bond, impossible as it may seem, is stronger than we previously thought possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“An’ why should we believe you?” Dagon snarled, scowling at Michael. “Don’t suppose you’ve got proof of any kind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We do, actually.” Uriel pulled several photos from the pocket of her jacket and laid them on the table. “This one,” she pointed at a photo of Crowley and Aziraphale dining at the Ritz, “is from when we first started observing them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks like textbook fraternizing to me,” Hastur had walked over, and was looking over Dagon’s shoulder, “but not more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>these</span>
  </em>
  <span> are from about two hours after they left the restaurant,” Uriel pointed to a series of photos of the inside of Aziraphale’s bookshop, which appeared to be taken from outside the window. In the first one Crowley and Aziraphale were sitting on the couch, Aziraphale holding both of Crowley’s hands in his own. They appeared to be having a rather intense conversation, and they both had tears in their eyes. In the second, Aziraphale had leaned forward to kiss Crowley. In the third, they were locked in what could only be described as a passionate embrace, both limbs and tongues entangled in ways quite unbefitting hereditary enemies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they reached the final photo, all three demons stepped back from the table, horrified. Uriel put the photos back in her jacket, looking smug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” she said. She wasn’t. “I know it’s awful-- but you asked for proof. Be grateful I didn't show you the rest of them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So that,” Gabriel declared, “is why they </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> be soulmates in order for this plan to work. We don’t know how this bond came to be, or how it got so strong-- or why they feel the need to express it like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>-- but it is powerful enough that even without their memories they will be drawn to each other. If-- in this world we set up, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> make them soulmates, it could alert them to the fact that everything is not what it seems, which would really interfere with the whole torturing them for all eternity thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine. We’ll give you the soulmate thing.” Beelzebub looked resigned. “I still don’t see how thizzz is going to be torturing them. Even without their memories their bond will still be strong, which means their relationship will probably develop far quicker than normal-- they’ll just end up together and happy, which, if I’m not mizzztaken, is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>opposite</span>
  </em>
  <span> of what we want--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, not quite,” Uriel interrupted. “Aside from everyday tortures that we’ll arrange with the angels and demons that will pose as the other residents of the neighborhood, our overarching plan involves destroying their relationship from the inside out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“From the beginning,” Michael continued where Uriel had left off, “we will be planting seeds that will make it clear to Crowley that he doesn’t belong in our Good Place neighborhood. He’ll work it out, and conclude that Aziraphale cannot possibly be his soulmate, because he doesn’t belong there. It’s up to him what he chooses to do with that information, but no matter the path he takes, it will slowly destroy whatever love has built up between them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For example,” Gabriel said, “If he chooses not to tell Aziraphale, the guilt will eat him alive, and Aziraphale will grow suspicious that Crowley is hiding something. However, if he chooses to tell him, they will both have to cope with the fact that, despite what they </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> they feel for each other, they aren’t supposed to be together-- they’ll think whatever system we make up is one-hundred percent real. Not to mention that, knowing Aziraphale, he’ll feel at least slightly compelled to tell the person running the neighborhood the truth, and he’ll be paralyzed from indecision. They might technically be together, but we’re going to do everything in our power to make sure they won’t be happy about it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, fine. But if you think you’re gonna be running the show on your own--” Beelzebub leaned forward in her seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? You don’t trust me?” Gabriel looked genuinely offended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously not. Look, I don’t need to be in charge or anything-- I have zero interest in whatever stupid role you made up for yourself-- just make me one of the residents of the neighborhood. I want to be able to keep an eye on Crowley-- and on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” Gabriel raised his hands in defeat. “So, are we agreed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold on. What if we fail?” Dagon asked, stepping forward. “You said it yourself-- their bond is impossibly strong. And as much as we may not like it, they were smart enough to stop Armageddon. I think we have to acknowledge the possibility that even with their memories gone, they might work out what we’re up to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel chuckled. “Oh, but that’s the best part of all of this-- it’s impossible for us to fail! Even if they work things out, all we have to do is erase their memories and begin again. We can alter the scenario as we go, too, making it worse for them and easier for us. There’s literally no downside!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Except having to work with you lot,” Hastur muttered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that?” Uriel glared at Hastur. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span>--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enough!” Beelzebub cut Hastur off. She turned her attention back to Gabriel. “Fine. We’ll give this a shot. But if thingzzzz go wrong, don’t blame me when you’ve got thouzzzands of pissed off demons banging down your door. There’zzzz only so many times you’ll be able to reset the scenario before everyone’zzzz just as bored as before-- and then it’ll be you they start plotting revenge on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Gabriel said, with a smile that he probably thought was charming, but really read mainly as condescending. “We might need a few trial runs to work out all the kinks, but after that I’m certain it’ll be smooth sailing. We’ll be able to psychologically torture those two traitors for the rest of eternity!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held out his hand, and Beelzebub reluctantly shook it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This had better work,” she said under her breath. Although the scowl she had worn since the beginning of the meeting remained stalwartly on her face, the keen observer might have noticed a flicker of something else behind her eyes. Perhaps it was fear-- after all, they had seen Crowley and Aziraphale do things no demon or angel had ever done (even before they caught them making out like teenagers). What was to stop them from overpowering those who came to kidnap them? And who’s to say that the memory wipe would even work on them? There was every chance this plan was doomed before it had even begun. Or perhaps it was doubt-- Gabriel’s plan might not have been that bad, all things considered, but did she really trust </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> to pull it off? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, as it stands, Gabriel was hardly what one would consider a keen observer, and thus saw none of this inner turmoil. Instead, he clapped his hands together loud enough to make everyone in the room jump. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right then!” he said, “Let’s get to work.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>what's a consistent uploading schedule? i don't know her</p>
<p>tumblr @ <a href="https://panicvertig-o.tumblr.com/">panicvertig-o</a> / <a href="https://ineffableflashbastard.tumblr.com/">ineffableflashbastard</a> (good omens side blog)<br/> <br/>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletopaz/works?fandom_id=27251507">check out my other good omens fics!</a></p>
<p>thanks for reading! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Crowley and Aziraphale reluctantly attend the welcome party for the residents of the Good Place, and it goes about as well as one would expect.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>well, so much for a regular uploading schedule lol</p><p>but for real, everything has gotten so much busier recently so idk when exactly i'll be able to post chapters (here's hoping the next one will be out sooner though lmao), but i'm definitely not abandoning this fic</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley was now sprawled across the couch, Aziraphale sitting in the armchair next to him. He couldn’t help but notice that his less-than-perfect house felt far more like a home with Aziraphale in it. Had Aziraphale been his soulmate, he would have assumed the feeling of comfort was something that came from finally meeting the person you’re supposed to be with forever. As it was, he couldn’t quite tell if it was just because Aziraphale was the first non-Gabriel entity he’d been able to interact with since arriving in the Good Place, or perhaps because he was downright gorgeous, but he was finding it easier to talk to him by the second. </p><p>It wasn’t just that he was beautiful, though he certainly was. Crowley wanted to bury his face in the softness of his stomach, to wrap his arms around the broadness of his shoulders, to press kiss after kiss to that pretty pink mouth. But there was something else, too, underneath it all. Watching Aziraphale talk, seeing his eyes light up and his hands flutter-- he was just… so alive. Which Crowley recognized was ironic, given the circumstances. He was grateful for the sunglasses he had grabbed on a whim, since with them on Aziraphale couldn’t see how much he was staring. Usually, people like him flustered Crowley to the point of incoherence, but for some reason everything felt easy, around him. Comforting, even. </p><p>“So-- what’s the deal with this party tonight?” Crowley asked. </p><p>“Not really sure--  the first I heard of it was when Gabriel was leaving.” Aziraphale looked less than thrilled to be reminded of the unavoidable event in their near future. </p><p>“Yeah, me too. I gotta wonder why <em> he’s </em> not the one throwing it... imagine arriving in the afterlife only to be told that you’ve got to plan and host a party?” Crowley sat up, grimacing at the thought. </p><p>“And on your first night no less!” Aziraphale concurred. </p><p>“Welcome to eternal paradise!” Crowley exclaimed, trying to mimic Gabriel’s faux cheery tone. “I know you just got here, but I hope you’re prepared to welcome over a hundred people into your home, and also make sure they’re all consistently entertained over the course of several hours!”</p><p>“My dear, I think we’re forgetting to consider a far more horrifying possibility,” Aziraphale said through a laugh. “That there might be a person who genuinely enjoys hosting parties-- so much so that their version of eternal paradise actually involves, or even <em> requires </em> it!”</p><p>Crowley shuddered. “Oh-- say it isn’t so, angel!” He threw an arm over his eyes, flopping back onto the couch in a dramatic swoon. </p><p>“I mean-- to each their own, I suppose,” Aziraphale said, begrudgingly. “Truth be told I don’t think I’d even bother <em> going </em> if it didn’t feel like a requirement.”</p><p>“We’re definitely on the same page on that front,” Crowley agreed emphatically. “Thank goodness we can always leave early.”</p><p>“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep,” Aziraphale warned. “I am very likely to hold you to that.”</p><p>“Honestly, angel, I won’t complain one bit if you do.”</p><p>Aziraphale smiled gratefully at him, and Crowley felt something twist in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair to either of them. Aziraphale was operating under the assumption that Crowley was the person he was supposed to be spending eternal paradise with. And for Crowley’s part, the fact that he and Aziraphale weren’t really supposed to be together was the last thing he wanted to think about, yet it was all that was on his mind. He wanted to get to know Aziraphale, to spend time with him-- under different circumstances he could see himself falling-- well, there was really no point in going down that path, was there? </p><p>The reality of their situation hung over him like a dark cloud. At some point he would have to tell Aziraphale, and then everything would shatter. Even if Aziraphale didn’t turn him in to Gabriel, he would no longer have any reason to spend time with Crowley. He’d leave, and then they’d spend the rest of their eternal lives only ever seeing each other in passing. Aziraphale would likely make fast friends with other residents of the neighborhood, and Crowley would be left alone.</p><p>As much as the thought saddened him, the other option-- although easy-- was crueler than Crowley could stomach. Theoretically, he could simply carry on like this. Calling Aziraphale ‘angel,’ talking with him about any and every topic under the sun, openly staring at him when Aziraphale wasn’t paying attention. They could spend time together, really, properly getting to know each other. He could pretend he’d never seen what Gabriel had shown him. Maybe someday Aziraphale would kiss him. It would be non-action, to take this path; it would be simple. But he couldn’t spend eternity lying to Aziraphale just for the sake of his own happiness. </p><p>Aziraphale deserved to be able to get to know the other people here-- the actual good people. The ones who did exemplary things, and were being rewarded for it. Surely they’d make him happier than Crowley ever could. Crowley was just, well-- a fluke. A mistake. Aziraphale deserved better.</p><p>“Crowley, dear, are you quite alright?” Aziraphale was leaning towards him slightly, brow furrowed and bright blue eyes that much more distractingly close. </p><p>“Hm?” Crowley blinked. “Yeah, yeah, m’fine, angel.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The party was as crowded as it was loud, which is to say it was neither of those things, really, yet Crowley still felt entirely overwhelmed. His neighbor’s house was absolutely enormous, and even though the entire neighborhood was currently in it, it seemed as though you could turn any corner and find yourself utterly alone. </p><p>“Well, it sure is… impressive,” he remarked, looking down one seemingly endless hallway, before turning around to see another directly behind him.</p><p>“You have to wonder how they decide what kind of house each person gets,” Aziraphale said as he gazed up at the giant, sparkling chandelier above them.</p><p>“According to Gabriel everything is perfectly tailored to your personality... really makes you wonder what kind of person has a personality this... big.”</p><p>“Speaking of Gabriel,” Aziraphale said under his breath, “incoming.”</p><p>“Anthony! Aziraphale! So glad you two made it!” Gabriel’s smile was as wide and fake looking as ever, and Crowley felt a now-familiar wave of nausea come over him. “Come this way-- I’m about to give my welcome speech!”</p><p>The two of them followed Gabriel into what Crowley took to be a sitting room-- that is, if a sitting room could comfortably fit over a hundred people.  Gabriel walked to the center of the room as Aziraphale and Crowley made the seemingly simultaneous decision to remain on the outskirts. Crowley leaned against a wall, and, seeing someone coming around with a tray, grabbed two glasses of champagne and passed one to Aziraphale. </p><p>“Oh, thank you,” Aziraphale smiled at him, and Crowley found himself feeling quite breathless.</p><p>“N-no problem,” he managed, before regaining his composure. “Although if I’m being honest I feel like I might need something stronger to get through this.”</p><p>Aziraphale opened his mouth to reply, but just then Gabriel began to speak.</p><p>“Thank you all so much for coming, and an extra special thank you to Beatrice for agreeing to host tonight!” Gabriel gestured to a woman with short dark hair standing off to the side. She didn’t look at all like the kind of person who would own a house this elaborate. She nodded in acknowledgement of the applause that followed Gabriel’s words, but Crowley honestly thought she looked like she didn’t particularly want to be there. Or perhaps she just wasn’t all that fond of Gabriel, which Crowley could certainly understand. </p><p>“Now, as you all know,” Gabriel continued, “you’re here because you are the people who lived the very best lives during your time on Earth-- but here’s something you don’t know. Now, I’m not really supposed to tell you this, but-- oh, it’s just so exciting! This is actually the very first Good Place neighborhood I’ve ever designed! I’m so excited to have gotten to make this perfect world for all of you wonderful people!”</p><p>Gabriel continued his speech, but Crowley found he had entirely stopped paying attention. He had become rather enamored with the way the lights reflected off of Aziraphale’s hair. Pale as it was, when the light hit it, it practically glowed, giving it an almost halo-like appearance. Angel, indeed. All too soon Aziraphale’s gaze flickered over to Crowley, and he had to force himself to return his attention to Gabriel.</p><p> “...and remember, you’re here because you deserve it! You deserve an absolutely perfect world, because <em>every</em> <em>single</em> <em>one</em> of you is a good person.”</p><p>At those words, he looked directly at Crowley. It was probably a coincidence, but it made Crowley feel <em> wrong </em> all over again. Without thinking, he downed his glass of champagne in one swallow. Gabriel looked at him like he could see into his <em> soul </em>, like Crowley was hiding something and Gabriel could see it with no effort whatsoever. Did he know? How could he know? And if he did-- why wasn’t Crowley already burning in Hell? Or, rather, The Bad Place, he supposed. </p><p>“Well, that’s it from me. Everyone have fun tonight!” And just like that, the moment was over. Everyone was applauding, Gabriel was smiling his fake, plastic smile, and the party was carrying on like normal.</p><p>“Jeez,” Crowley let out a breath and leaned his head back against the wall. “Every time he speaks I lose five years off my life.”</p><p>“I’m fairly certain you can’t actually lose years off your life anymore, my dear,” Aziraphale quipped.</p><p>“I-- fair point,” Crowley conceded, grinning at him. </p><p>They spent some time lingering off to the side, neither one all that enthused about mingling with the other residents, but eventually Aziraphale mentioned seeing a huge library somewhere in the house which he very much wanted to investigate. </p><p>“I have a fair amount of books in my own home, of course,” he said, “it’s just-- oh, Crowley, I’ve never seen a library that big…”</p><p>“Oh, go on, angel,” Crowley said. Aziraphale had lit up as soon as he started talking about it, and Crowley knew in that moment there was no way he’d keep him from all those books. Not that he’d want to-- he’d pretty much made up his mind that the greatest joy of the Good Place was making Aziraphale happy. “I’ll cover for you if anyone asks where you went.”</p><p>“Oh, really? I mean-- you could come with me? If you wanted to, that is.” </p><p>“Nah, s’alright, angel. I don’t go in much for reading,” Crowley lied. “Just come get me when you want to leave.”</p><p>“Well, okay.” A flicker of-- was that disappointment? crossed Aziraphale’s face, but he quickly brightened up again. “But if you want to leave and I haven’t come back-- feel free to come find me. I’m afraid I’m liable to find a book and get lost in it-- it might be awhile before I resurface.”</p><p>“Will do,” Crowley nodded as Aziraphale left, trying very hard to ignore the mental image his brain supplied of Aziraphale sitting in a cozy armchair, fully engrossed in a book. Crowley could see himself bringing Aziraphale a cup of tea, leaving it on the table beside him before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Aziraphale would smile at him, and thank him for the tea, before leaning up to capture Crowley’s lips in a soft kiss. Or perhaps it wasn’t an armchair, but a couch-- Crowley could sprawl across it, and lay his head in Aziraphale’s lap while he read. Maybe Aziraphale would run a hand through Crowley’s hair, or stroke comfortingly along Crowley’s back until Crowley drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Maybe--</p><p>“Hey-- it’s Anthony, right? Anthony Crowley?”</p><p>Crowley blinked, trying to bring himself back to the present. That world wasn’t his to have, Aziraphale wasn’t his to have. There was no use dwelling on fantasies of a life that would never be his. Also, Beatrice was standing in front of him, looking mildly concerned. </p><p>“Hm? Yeah, yeah-- that’s me but, uh-- just call me Crowley. You’re Beatrice, right?”</p><p>“Just Bea is fine. So, Crowley,” Bea said, her concern quickly replaced by a mischievous smirk, “you look like you could use a drink.”</p><p>“Is it that obvious?” </p><p>Bea chuckled. “Come with me.”</p><p>Bea led him down a short hallway and into another massive room. The bar, placed up against the far wall, was in keeping with the rest of the house-- it was huge, and so luxurious that it bordered on ridiculous. </p><p>Bea must have noticed the somewhat incredulous look on Crowley’s face as they crossed the room, because she rolled her eyes, and said, “Yeah-- I know, it’s a lot. I’m sure Gabriel told you how the houses are based on your personality, but for my money I think I’ve got this one because I was the first one to arrive.”</p><p>“Oh?” Crowley tried to sound as noncommittal as possible, but that was certainly interesting. If Gabriel was lying (or even just omitting the truth) in this regard, was it possible that there were other things he had been less than honest about?</p><p>Upon reaching the bar, Bea headed to the far end, sitting in the very last seat. Crowley followed suit, taking the stool right next to hers. </p><p>“I mean, I don’t know for sure, but look at this place,” Bea gestured around. “Do I really seem like the kind of person whose personality matches all <em> this </em>?” </p><p>“Well I don’t know you <em> that </em> well yet-- but at the very least you seem more... reserved than this house is.” </p><p>“Just a bit,” Bea chuckled. Then she leaned towards him, lowering her voice, “It’s not that I’m not grateful, I am-- it might not <em> quite </em> be my style but this house is <em> nice </em> . It’s just that Gabriel’s explanation for it doesn’t make that much sense. I don’t want to say I <em> don’t </em> trust him, but…”</p><p>“You think there are things he’s not telling us?” It was getting harder and harder for Crowley to maintain his facade of mild curiosity. If he wasn’t the only one feeling strange about this place, maybe there was more to this than just the fact that he didn’t belong. </p><p>“Eh, what does it really matter, anyway?” Bea shrugged. “Way I see it-- maybe he is, maybe he’s not-- either way we’ve got eternal paradise to enjoy, and you know what that comes with?”</p><p>“Free alcohol?” Crowley guessed. </p><p>“Free alcohol,” Bea confirmed, grinning.</p><p>She motioned for the bartender, and Crowley tried to ignore his desire to ask her more questions. All he wanted was some kind of confirmation-- proof that he wasn’t alone in thinking there was something off about all this. But it was clear that Bea was through with that topic of conversation, as she was currently pushing not one, but two shot glasses into Crowley’s hands. </p><p>Crowley hesitated for a second. Getting absolutely plastered on his first night in a paradise he wasn’t even supposed to be in seemed like the very definition of a bad idea. And yet-- he was still thinking about the way that Aziraphale had smiled at him, how he hadn’t minded-- might’ve even <em> liked </em> -- when Crowley called him angel, and, yeah. He absolutely needed to take his mind off of <em> that </em>. Falling for Aziraphale was not an option. This certainly wasn’t the best idea, but at least it would mean he’d stop thinking about Aziraphale so much. </p><p>He took the two shots from Bea, grinned at her, and downed them both at once. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“An’ ANOTHER thing!” Crowley exclaimed. He and Bea had been sitting at the bar for the better part of an hour, and he had lost count of how many drinks he’d had. “Whas’ so <em> special </em> ‘bout everyone here-- like, like-- wha’ Gabriel said! Kept talkin’ ‘bout everyone’s ‘contributions to humanity’ an’-- an’ what the hell does that even MEAN? If-- if you’re not jus’ the-- the absolute BEST of the best-- does tha’ mean y’just go straight to HELL? How’s tha’ fair?”</p><p>“Crowley, people are staring,” Bea said through gritted teeth, pointedly not looking at him. </p><p>As far as Crowley could tell, she’d had as much to drink, if not more, than he had-- yet somehow she was still completely coherent. Meanwhile, Crowley could practically feel the alcohol in his <em> bones </em> . He knew nothing he was saying was coming out quite right, but the more he thought about it, the angrier he got, and the more certain he was that there were people suffering in the afterlife that didn’t deserve to be suffering. Sure, he might not have lived the <em> best </em>life he could, but he certainly didn’t deserve eternal damnation! And neither did anyone else!</p><p>“It’s just-- I just don’t-- I don’t GET IT!” Crowley knew he was yelling, knew he had been yelling for the past ten minutes, but no part of him cared. “And tha’s the thing-- right? Like-- I don’t understand it-- it’s CLEARLY not fair-- isn’t it the <em> right </em> thing to do to question it?”</p><p>“Well, I suppose you can question all you like, but the fact of the matter is it won’t change anything.” Bea’s tone was hushed, and she still wouldn’t look at Crowley. </p><p>“Whatever. I bet everyone here’s got something they’re hiding! No one’s a perfect saint <em> all </em> the time, wha’ kind of a person would that be? No one here’s ‘s good ‘s they claim to be, tha’s for sure!”</p><p>Crowley slid off his seat, only just maintaining his balance.</p><p>“Where are you going?” Bea raised one eyebrow. </p><p>“T’ prove m’ point!” Crowley scanned the room. The crowds had thinned, but there were still a fair number of people around the room, most of them doing their best to ignore Crowley. Finally, he spotted a man with white blond hair and dark eyes, who looked like he was trying and failing to conceal the fact that he was laughing at Crowley. </p><p>“You there!” Crowley pointed to the man, who had the nerve to look affronted. “Just what did you do that’s so great? Why-- why do you deserve to be here over anyone else?”</p><p>“I was a heart surgeon. I don’t really like to brag about it, but I did save many lives.” The man folded his arms and pointedly turned his attention away from Crowley. </p><p>“Ugh, <em> whatever </em>-- wha’ ‘bout you? Huh?” Crowley spun around, gesturing at a pale, red-haired woman sitting at the bar. </p><p>“I hardly think I owe you any kind of answer, but if you must know I dedicated my entire life to work for various charities. Over the course of my lifetime I raised millions of dollars, all for the sole purpose of helping people less fortunate than me.” Her steely grey eyes were fixed on Crowley, as though daring him to find anything to say to that. </p><p>“See, see, tha’s great, tha’s wonderful and all but that’s not my POINT!” Crowley was growing more and more irritated by the second. “My POINT-- my point is--”</p><p>And what had his point been? Slowly but surely Crowley’s entire argument was slipping away from him. He had been saying… what had he been saying? Just because your job allows you to do good things… doesn’t mean that… something. And how do we know what actually makes… someone. Something. And… the other thing… which was… was… </p><p>He wasn’t sure when he lost his balance, but suddenly strong arms were catching him, holding him steady. </p><p>“Crowley, dear, are you quite alright? I heard yelling…”</p><p>Aziraphale’s worried face swam above him, refusing to come into focus no matter how many times Crowley blinked.</p><p>“Perhaps it’s time for us to head home.” Aziraphale threw Crowley’s arm around his shoulders, standing him up straight. </p><p>“N-no, I was-- was proving a point! Was proving a…” This was the closest Aziraphale had ever been to him, and it was <em> distracting </em> . Crowley wanted to stay pressed into his side forever. And he was holding him up like it was <em> nothing </em>. “Hmm… you’re strong, angel. S’ very attractive…” </p><p>“Alright, we should definitely be going.” Aziraphale began to lead Crowley back towards the hallway. </p><p>“Y’know what, y’know what you’re ‘zactly right, angel,” Crowley mumbled into Aziraphale’s chest. “Let’s go, ‘s get outta here.”</p><p>“Indeed, dear.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t wanna spend any time with any of them anyway!” Crowley yelled back over Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Bunch of no-good, good people-- s’ like, you do good stuff but are you good? Like deep down… seems like none of you are actually halfway decent! S’not that the actions count for nothing-- s’just-- there’s more to it than that-- didja hear me? I said THERE’S MORE TO IT THAN JUST--”</p><p>“Crowley.” Aziraphale sounded stern. “That’s quite enough.”</p><p>Crowley let his head fall onto Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Sorry, angel,” he murmured. “Jus’ frustrating, s’all.”</p><p>“I know, dear, I know. Let’s go home.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tumblr @ <a href="https://panicvertig-o.tumblr.com/">panicvertig-o</a> / <a href="https://ineffableflashbastard.tumblr.com/">ineffableflashbastard</a> (good omens side blog)</p><p>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletopaz/works?fandom_id=27251507">check out my other good omens fics!</a></p><p>thanks for reading! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. There's Been A Mistake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which a confession is made, and also there's only one bed.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>well. as it turns out, moving into a new apartment and starting to take classes again in the middle of a pandemic is. uh. more time consuming than i thought. whoops. at least i've learned my lesson about saying things like "i think the next chapter will probably be out sooner!" in the notes lmao</p><p>anyway, i have absolutely no idea what my upload schedule is gonna look like (even the use of the word "schedule" is pushing it imo) but rest assured i am definitely not abandoning this fic! the whole thing is outlined, it's all planned out, i just have to find the time to write it lol </p><p>so yeah with all that being said here's chapter four!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As he leaned on Aziraphale for support, Crowley knew he should’ve been embarrassed. He’d only just met this man today, and despite their pleasant conversation earlier in the day, he had then proceeded to get spectacularly drunk at a party full of their new (and <em> literally </em> eternal) neighbors and make a complete fool of himself. And yet, the only thought in his head was how <em> good </em> Aziraphale smelled. Like parchment, and Earl Grey tea, and something else that Crowley could only identify as <em> home</em>. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he truly wanted nothing more than to snuggle up in bed with Aziraphale and sleep for a nice long while.</p><p>Actually, that wasn’t the <em> only </em> thought in his head. It was the one his brain was choosing to focus on, however, because the other was decidedly less pleasant. It still rang in the back of his mind, however, steady and persistent: <em> You don’t belong here</em>. He didn’t want it to be true, but he had seen the proof. Those memories Gabriel had shown him hadn’t been his, and although he might not have been a <em> bad </em> person necessarily, he certainly wasn’t up there with the heart surgeons, volunteer workers, and philanthropists who seemed to comprise this entire neighborhood. </p><p>Unfortunately, the more effort he exerted trying to bury the thought, the less effective it proved to be. His brain was beginning to spiral, reminding him that he was lying to Aziraphale, that Aziraphale’s kindness was surely conditional, that he’d have to tell him the truth and when he did he’d be tortured for all eternity and even that wouldn’t hurt as much as never getting to see Aziraphale again. And that was the thing, wasn’t it? Despite everything, being around Aziraphale still felt good, still felt right. There was no world in which the situation he was in was an easy one to deal with, but meeting Aziraphale had made it a thousand times harder. </p><p>There was nothing for it. The sooner he ripped the bandaid off, the less it would hurt. Right?</p><p>When they reached the door of his home, Crowley pried himself from Aziraphale’s side, standing-- albeit unsteadily-- between Aziraphale and the door. </p><p>“Hold on a sec’, angel,” he said. He was already regretting it-- he wanted to be inside, with Aziraphale-- and more than that he wanted to go to sleep-- but Aziraphale deserved to know the truth. </p><p>“My dear, is everything alright?” Aziraphale sounded genuinely concerned, and oh, how could Crowley ever have thought that he deserved someone so kind?</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, jus’ hold on,” Crowley said, putting a hand on Aziraphale’s chest, “Jus’ uh-- jus’ stay right there.”</p><p>“Crowley, if you’re uncomfortable with me spending the night here tonight, I completely understand. We may be soulmates, but we have only just met-- really I won’t be offended.”</p><p>“See, see thas’ my point!” Crowley exclaimed, and then had to lean back against the door to ensure he didn’t topple over entirely. “The soulmate... thing. I’m-- there’s been a mistake, an’ I’m so sorry-- I’m... well, basically, I’m not yours, is the thing.”</p><p>“Whatever do you mean by that?” Aziraphale folded his arms.</p><p>“A-- a mistake. I’m not supposed to be here, angel, I’m sorry.” Crowley felt as though all the alcohol had left his system at once, as the reality of what he was telling Aziraphale started to hit him. “I don’t belong in the Good Place, which means-- I can’t be your soulmate. I’m really sorry.”</p><p>“But-- what do you mean you don’t belong here?”</p><p>“Just that. Someone made a mistake. I think I knew from the start-- I didn’t mention it to you, but I felt this weird sense of... wrongness? Ever since I got here, basically. But then-- well. Gabriel-- he showed me some memories, some device, or something-- installed in my house, so I could look back at my life and all that, and-- well, they weren’t mine. Those memories belong to someone else. I’m not the person everyone thinks I am-- I’m not ever sure <em> who </em> everyone thinks I am-- point is, I shouldn’t be here.”</p><p>He laughed, a cold, heartless sort of thing-- mainly because the alternative was crying. He felt like his heart was breaking, and all for a man he had only just met. But that was the thing about Aziraphale, wasn’t it? Maybe technically they had only met today, but the more time Crowley had spent with him, the more it felt like he had known Aziraphale-- even <em> loved </em> Aziraphale-- his entire life. </p><p>“It’s funny, actually,” he continued, “You’re the first thing-- the only thing, if I’m being honest, that’s felt right since I got here. I know this isn’t fair-- to put this on you-- hell, you’ve probably got an <em> actual </em> soulmate out there somewhere-- oh, I don’t know. I guess, well-- I just feel like I’ve known you all my life, and I’m sorry, because I’ve got no idea where that feeling’s coming from. We’re not soulmates, because we can’t be, but being around you-- it still feels right.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked, to put it mildly, shellshocked. </p><p>“Perhaps... we’d better talk inside,” he said quietly. Gently, he moved Crowley to the side and opened the door, taking Crowley’s arm and leading him inside. </p><p>They sat down on the couch, and Aziraphale took a deep breath, before taking both of Crowley’s hands in his own. </p><p>“I wish--” he hesitated, before pressing on, “I wish I could tell you I felt the same. That-- that you’re the only thing that’s felt right to me, that we’re in this together... but the truth is, as arrogant as it sounds-- I do think I’m supposed to be here. I’m so sorry--”</p><p>“No-- angel, no. This-- ‘s not your fault. None of it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner-- I-- I basically led you on this entire day, just-- knowing that you weren’t my soulmate-- letting you believe it anyway-- all because--”</p><p>
  <em> Because you’re adorable. Because we’re having a very serious conversation right now and yet I’m still distracted by the fact that you’re holding my hands. Because you took my breath away when I first saw you, and it’s only gotten worse since. Because I met you less than twenty four hours ago, yet it feels like I’ve known you my whole life. Because maybe, deep down, I wanted you to be my soulmate. Even just for one day.  </em>
</p><p>“Because I didn’t want it to be true. I’m sorry angel-- I was scared. I thought… well, honestly, I thought you’d just go straight to Gabriel, if I told you. And I don’t-- I want to stay here. Somehow,” he finished, lamely. </p><p>“Oh, Crowley.” A complicated look crossed Aziraphale’s face. “Perhaps… perhaps you’re right. If you had told me when I first walked in the door-- I don’t know. I might have said something.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked down, away from Crowley, but he didn’t pull his hands away. </p><p>“Look, that’s fair. Frankly if you decided to go to Gabriel <em> now</em>, I don’t think I could truly fault you for it, but--”</p><p>“Crowley, I’m not going to turn you in.”</p><p>“You-- what?”</p><p>“I’m not turning you in.” Aziraphale still wasn’t looking at Crowley, but his voice was calm, and determined. “It may be… against my better judgement, but-- I like you. So far, more than anyone else I’ve met here. I want you to stay. But we’re going to need a plan.”</p><p>“We--” Crowley’s head was spinning, whether from the alcohol or the turn of events he wasn’t sure. <em> I like you</em>. <em> More than anyone else I’ve met here</em>. He couldn’t help the slight stirring of hope in his chest. “A plan?”</p><p>“Well, yes. You do want to stay here, don’t you?” Aziraphale was finally looking at him again. His gaze was still warm, still kind, but now there was unwavering resolve behind it.</p><p>“Yes, of--of course, but…” Crowley could hardly believe what he was hearing. Surely Aziraphale knew what he was putting at risk? And after knowing Crowley for less than a day… “Ang-- Aziraphale, are you sure? You’re going to have to lie to <em> everyone</em>-- if this goes wrong I might not be the only one who gets sent to the Bad Place.”</p><p>“I admit, I haven’t thought through the specifics, but I’m aware of the risks. Although-- I think there may be a way for both of us to stay here even if we’re found out. But-- perhaps we should discuss this more in the morning? You look quite tired, my dear.”</p><p>Crowley <em> was </em> tired. He was tired, and he was drunk, and this was <em> not </em> how he expected this conversation to go-- and this was all just a little too much for him right now. </p><p>“Yeah,” he managed. “Let’s talk in the morning. Thank you, angel.”</p><p>“Of course.” Aziraphale smiled at him. “I may not understand your feelings of not truly belonging here, and we may not be soulmates, but-- what was it you said? ‘Being around you feels right’? That… I do understand. You feel like someone I’ve known for far longer than a day, and... I’m not willing to lose that.”</p><p>And with that, he let go of Crowley’s hands and stood up.</p><p>“Oh. Me-- me either,” was all Crowley could come up with. If he hadn’t been dead already, he was certain that Aziraphale’s words would someday be the death of him. He had acknowledged the soulmate thing, sure, and maybe that meant that he didn’t really see him as a romantic possibility anymore, but… <em> I’m not willing to lose that </em>? That was… something. Something that he didn’t have the brain capacity to think about right now, but something nonetheless. He stood, motioning for Aziraphale to follow him. “C’mon, angel.”</p><p>He headed up the stairs, not noticing that Aziraphale wasn’t following until he was halfway up. “Aziraphale? You coming?”</p><p>Aziraphale looked slightly uncomfortable. “Forgive me, my dear, but I assume you only have one bed up there?”</p><p>“Well, yeah--” And at that moment Crowley’s brain caught up with the rest of him. “Which-- which is why I was gonna show you where it was, before I crash on the couch.”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Crowley, this is your home-- I’ll sleep on the couch, it’s no trouble, really--”</p><p>“Angel, please-- just come upstairs.”</p><p>Aziraphale, seemingly unwilling to continue debating, finally moved to follow Crowley up the stairs. They rounded the corner into the bedroom, and Crowley was very abruptly reminded just how big his bed was. Too big for only one person, really. And shockingly comfortable-looking, especially considering the rest of the furniture looked and felt like it was made of concrete. Not that he’d bring any of that up now, of course. </p><p>“Ta-da,” he gestured weakly at the bed as he tried and failed to suppress a yawn. </p><p>“Oh, Crowley--” Aziraphale moved towards Crowley, like he was going to touch his arm, his shoulder, and it was all Crowley could do not to flinch away. He was certain that if he allowed himself, he would simply melt into Aziraphale’s touch, curl into his chest, potentially even fall asleep right where he stood. </p><p>“No, no, angel, I won’t hear it.” Crowley waved away his protests, already headed towards the door.</p><p>“Crowley, dear--” and this time Aziraphale did touch Crowley, taking his arm firmly, refusing to let him leave. “What I was going to say-- if it wouldn’t make you too uncomfortable, that is-- well, this bed is quite large. Perhaps we could just share it?”</p><p><em> Share it</em>. <em> Fuck</em>. Well, it wasn’t like Crowley had suggested it. “Aziraphale-- are you sure?”</p><p>“Yes, of course, Crowley-- it’s just one night,” Aziraphale chuckled. Crowley wasn’t sure what expression he was wearing, but he must not have looked convinced, because Aziraphale continued, “Crowley, I promise, I don’t mind. I think we both deserve to be comfortable.”</p><p>“I-- yeah. Okay. S’ long as you’re okay with it, I mean.”</p><p>“I assure you, I am.”</p><p>And then they were slipping under the sheets together, like an old married couple, like they’d been doing it for years. The size of the bed meant that they had a good six inches of space between them, yet it still felt inescapably intimate. Crowley could feel the dip in the bed, the weight of Aziraphale-- a physical confirmation of his presence, gravity drawing them closer together. He couldn’t shake the thought that it would be so easy to roll into Aziraphale’s arms, to let himself be held close-- protected, safe. But such things weren’t for Crowley-- and certainly not with Aziraphale. </p><p>And yet… Crowley allowed himself one moment to look at the man next to him. Aziraphale was staring up at the ceiling, the moonlight streaming in through the window illuminating his profile. God, but he was beautiful. This angel of a man… how was it that someone who hadn’t even been in his life twenty four hours ago was now so unbelievably important to him? Because that was the truth of it, Crowley realized. Yes, Aziraphale was attractive, kind, and seemingly willing to protect Crowley from a horrible fate despite barely knowing him-- but there was more to it than that. There was a depth to Crowley’s feelings that he just didn’t understand-- but it persisted, nevertheless, and he was faced with the reality that Aziraphale mattered to him, so, so much. </p><p>He forced himself to roll over to face the wall. Aziraphale could never know. This paradise-- he deserved to be able to explore it, to make of it whatever he wanted. It was his eternal reward, after all. Crowley was just an intruder. A parasite. A mistake. A mistake who Aziraphale had agreed to help despite everything-- the situation was complicated enough without Crowley’s feelings getting in the way. </p><p>“‘Night, angel,” he mumbled, face half-buried in a pillow. </p><p>“Goodnight, Crowley.”</p><p>Crowley craned his neck, stealing one last look at Aziraphale snuggling further into the covers, before turning away again and closing his eyes. He resolved then to protect Aziraphale, as Aziraphale was protecting him. It was the least he could do. If things started to go south, Crowley would take the fall. As horrible as the Bad Place sounded, he was certain there would be no greater torture than knowing he had condemned Aziraphale to that horrible fate. No. Aziraphale would stay here, stay safe. No matter what.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tumblr @ <a href="https://panicvertig-o.tumblr.com/">panicvertig-o</a> / <a href="https://ineffableflashbastard.tumblr.com/">ineffableflashbastard</a> (good omens side blog)</p><p>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletopaz/works?fandom_id=27251507">check out my other good omens fics!</a></p><p>thanks for reading! :D</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Calm Before The Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Aziraphale is trying to fall asleep, but he can't seem to turn his brain off.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm shocked that this chapter exists lol</p><p>but hey! chapter count updated-- technically this should probably be chapter 4.5-- it's a bit more of an interlude than a proper chapter, but i got a comment saying they were curious about Aziraphale's perspective during all of this, and i thought about it a bit and then all of a sudden i had written ~1000 words of Aziraphale's POV, so here's that :-)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale stared at the ceiling of Crowley’s bedroom, trying to will his mind to stop racing. To say this was not how Aziraphale had expected his first day in eternal paradise to go wasn’t inaccurate, but it did assume that Aziraphale had had some preconceived notions about what eternal paradise would be like, which… well. </p><p>Coming from a family as religious as his, one would expect Aziraphale to have either been a devout believer or an outspoken atheist, condemning not just his religion but the concept of religion as a whole. As it was, Aziraphale had fallen somewhere in the middle. When he had moved away from home to run his bookshop full time, he had finally been able to consider his beliefs as something separate from his family’s, and had ultimately decided that, while he <em> did </em> believe that there was something out there-- some type of higher power humanity could only hope to be able to conceptualize-- they were certainly not a supernatural judge of morality. </p><p>He supposed he had been wrong about that, to a certain extent. As far as he could tell, it wasn’t good moral character that got you into the Good Place-- it was living a good life. But what defined a good life? How did they even determine that? </p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut tight and blinked them back open. Now was really not the time to be thinking about these things. He had meant what he said to Crowley-- the better rested they were, the more likely they would be able to come up with a halfway decent plan to keep Crowley safe. Because that was really what this was, wasn’t it? At some point during this day, Aziraphale had decided he cared about Crowley-- enough that when he confessed that he shouldn’t even be here, Aziraphale had barely heard the end of his sentence before he had decided that he would be helping him stay.</p><p>When had that happened? Was it the first time Crowley smiled at him, or laughed at something Aziraphale had said? Was it when he casually passed him a glass of champagne? Was it when he grinned at Aziraphale and told him to go ahead and explore the library? It was as though taking Aziraphale into consideration was second nature to Crowley, as simple as breathing. Like Crowley cared about him not because he felt obligated to, but because it was simply his default state to care about Aziraphale. Aziraphale would’ve attributed it to Crowley’s general character, had it not been for the fact that he had <em> seen </em> Crowley interact with others, and it simply wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be that Crowley’s kindness was reserved only for Aziraphale, but so far that was what he had seen... </p><p>Aziraphale chanced a glance at the other man’s sleeping form. Crowley looked so peaceful in sleep, all that nervous energy having dissipated, leaving only lanky limbs sprawled out on the bed, completely devoid of tension. His sharp jawline tilted, exposing the length of his neck. And his face… there was no denying it, Crowley was quite handsome. In sleep his features were relaxed somewhat, but no less attractive. His shoulder-length red hair looked so soft, spread across the pillow. Aziraphale wanted to run his fingers through it, see if it was as silky as it looked. He wanted to kiss a line up Crowley’s neck, wanted those lanky limbs to wrap around him as they-- </p><p>Aziraphale shifted so he was on his side, facing away from Crowley. He couldn’t be thinking about things like that. </p><p>He couldn’t deny he felt… something for Crowley. The man was stunning, and seemed to care about Aziraphale in an effortless sort of way that Aziraphale had never experienced before. Everyone who had ever loved him had made it clear that they were putting in effort, that they cared because they felt they should, and frankly they weren’t sure if it was worth all the trouble. Aziraphale had accepted the idea that he was hard to love, had even accepted that if he never found love it would surely be his own fault-- and then Crowley had come along, and in the span of less than a day had made Aziraphale question everything he had assumed about himself. </p><p>And what was it that Crowley had said earlier? <em> “Being around you-- it still feels right.” </em>Yeah. That. And didn’t that indicate that some of this-- whatever <em> this </em> was, was mutual? Aziraphale might’ve felt right at home in the Good Place, but he also had a strong sense that Crowley was an essential part of that comfort. If they both felt that-- that strangely deep connection after only just meeting-- didn’t that mean something? </p><p>Well, even if it did, it didn’t matter. At this point, Aziraphale was well aware of what he had become to Crowley-- his only tie to the Good Place. The only person he had felt comfortable trusting with the truth of who he was. It was no use guessing how much of Aziraphale’s feelings were reciprocated. Not only did he not fully understand what his feelings for Crowley <em> were</em>, but the facts of their situation meant that getting feelings involved would be… unwise. Not to mention selfish. Crowley had so much to handle, the last thing he needed was the one person he could confide in making things uncomfortable by confessing that he had feelings for him.</p><p>No. Whatever this was, Aziraphale would have to keep it to himself, for Crowley’s sake. Maybe if they ever found a permanent solution, a way to ensure that Crowley could stay here, forever-- maybe then he could tell him. If the feeling was mutual, then he and Crowley could be together in eternal paradise, forever. But it was no use fantasizing about that. That world was a long way away, and getting there, if it was even possible, would certainly not be easy. Until then, the priority had to be keeping Crowley safe. </p><p>Aziraphale closed his eyes, finally starting to feel tired. As he began to drift off, his last thoughts were of flaming red hair and a devilishly handsome smile.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my current plan is to keep to the outline i already have, but if it makes sense to add in a couple more of these Aziraphale POV interludes this story might get longer lmao </p><p>tumblr @ <a href="https://panicvertig-o.tumblr.com/">panicvertig-o</a> / <a href="https://ineffableflashbastard.tumblr.com/">ineffableflashbastard</a> (good omens side blog)</p><p>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletopaz/works?fandom_id=27251507">check out my other good omens fics!</a></p><p>thanks for reading! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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